Mickle picked up the phone on his desk and dialled a number. Then he just said a word to the other end.
“Let her in!”
What he said was “Her” instead of “Daughter” or ‘Lady’. Maybe, in Mickle's eyes, we were just women plotting against him.
The door opened and I heard the soft sound of high heels on the carpet. As Mia's aggressive perfume drew closer, I got up from the couch.
When Mia saw me, she tried to pretend to give me a hug with a smile on her face. I slapped her in the face.
“What the hell are you doing?” Mia yelled at me, clutching her face.
“As your older sister, I think it's my duty to educate you.” I gently shook my hands, which were trembling with pain, “Remember, never do anything that insults our mother. Or I will tear you up like those pieces of paper and throw you on the ground.”
Mia looked at Mickle in shock, but he pretended to be helpless and slightly shrugged his shoulders, “I told you, this won't work!”
